Writer's note - this is the fourth in what is intended to be a series of short stories about April - a petite, attractive, mature, married, redhead. Each story will stand in isolation though the length and depth is likely to develop with each new story so it might be best to start at the first story and work your way though.
Today April has an encounter with a hairdresser.
All situations are imagined and any resemblance to real paces or people is purely coincidental.
Finally, these stories are for publication on the Literotica Site only and just because I have shared them on Literotica does not mean I have given permission for them to be reproduced anywhere else.
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Hair competition
April had finished washing her hair and was now getting dressed. She slipped on her red lace briefs, her matching bra. Over the top she pulled a jumper, also red, long sleeved, the thin material and tight fit emphasising the roundness of her breasts.
She pulled her jeans over her legs, fastening them around her thin waist, the denim fitting snugly around the pert cheeks of her ass. Looking in the mirror as she stepped into her pointed, three inch heel, red shoes, slipping a small black jacket over the top.
April felt good, looked good. And she was glad she did, she knew that most of the other people at the function would be much younger than her, good looking hair models, equally good looking hair dressers.
April was going with her daughter, Lucy, to a hairdressing competition, Lucy's boyfriend, Karl, being one of the leading models. She didn't really want to go, it was Sunday afternoon, she had lots of housework to do. Lucy really wanted her there though, she found these events boring and wanted the company. April's mind was finally made up when Lucy told her there would be free bubbly and canapés.
At around three o'clock, after making sure her straightners were turned off April went downstairs, into the sitting room kissed her other children goodbye, jumped into Lucy's car and off they went.
The event itself was a little disappointing. It was being held in a local nightclub, the whole place given over the models, hairdressers and their entourage. She didn't know anybody. The bubbly was simply cheap Cava, the canapés just cheese and biscuits.
The standard of hairdressing on display was also poor, the early hair designs being developed by trainees. It was nearly five o'clock, April had been unable to get a seat and as a result having to stand, her legs hurt, she was bored and was considering going home. As she was plucking up the courage to tell Lucy she was leaving April felt a tap on her shoulder, turned around and looked straight into the dark brown eyes of Grant, the owner of the salon where her son got his hair cut.
"Hi," he said "what are you doing here?"
April smiled and explained why she was there, pointing over to Lucy as she sat watching the hairdresser getting Karl ready. April went on to explain that she was bored stiff, that the bubbly and canapés were poor and she was about to go home.
Grant explained that he too was bored but he had a booth over in the corner, reserved for his guests who had now left, the Moet he bought and proper canapés unfinished. He asked if April would care to join him.
"Why not" was April's simple but swift reply, explaining that she ought to tell Lucy what was going on.
Grant said he would wait for her in the booth and after explaining the situation to Lucy April joined him.
The booth was in a quiet area of the club, slightly off to the side, the occupants able to see most of the models as they sat on the stage but the location and lighting meaning nobody could really see them. April slid onto the bench on the other side of the table to Grant, he handing to her one of the tall glasses of Moet, waving his hand at the delightful looking canapés as he invited her to help herself. April took a small salmon canapés and sipped at the Moet, clearly savouring the quality compared to what she had tasted earlier.
"Its nice to experience some real quality," she said as she took another sip from the elegant, stemmed glass.
"I suspect a lady such as yourself is used to quality," was Grant's simple response.
A little embarrassed April moved the conversation quickly to ask how his new salon was doing, apologising for missing the opening.
Grant explained he was doing very well, that he had been disappointed she hadn't attended the opening, but was pleased he found her here today. They continued to talk, taking little notice as the hair models as they changed, the judges comments over the sound system simply drifting above their heads.
As they talked the Moet flowed and April could feel it beginning to have an effect on her. The conversation had moved on now and was no longer about salons and work but about their background, how he had moved from America when he was in his teens and settled in the town, working hard to get where he was.
April had explained she had always lived in the town, though often wishing she had the guts to move away.
As the competition heated up around them they became more aware of the noises emanating from the sound system, the increasing volume drowning their conversation. Realising they were struggling to hear each other Grant moved out of the booth, around the table and sat next to April.
